


To Build A Nest

by fayharley



Category: The Lighthouse (2019)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dead Seagull: Do Not Eat, F/M, M/M, Other, Oviposition, Parasitic pregnancy, Sexual Assault, Sirens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:22:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23596792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayharley/pseuds/fayharley
Summary: She watched from the sea as the youth arrived.On the rock, two men collided.
Relationships: Ephraim Winslow/Mermaid, Thomas Wake/Ephraim Winslow
Comments: 9
Kudos: 57
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	To Build A Nest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiriamKenneath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/gifts).



She watched from the depths as the sleek dark ship brought the youth to the rock. The metal sliced through the water like a knife, churning up surf and leaving a thick froth of white trailing behind it. The foul smell of burning coal clung to all the works of man, so pungent that she knew she would be able to follow the youth's path by the taste he left in the air. She lay beneath the waves and waited until night. 

In the dark the youth came to the shore, stumbling as if in a trance. When she sang he flinched, the notes too high pitched for his human ears to comprehend. He dropped to his knees in the surf as she conjured visions with her song and she drank down his fear like spring water. His mind was as pitch black and twisted as a maelstrom as she began to peel her way inside. Her mouth filled up with drool at the stench of terror and pain that stained him. But it would not do for her to get greedy and swallow all he had to offer this first night so she was forced to let him go and retreated with the tide. 

In the daylight the sea birds followed the youth and the jealous sea god as they made their way to and fro on the rocky island. The cackling gulls told her in delight of the youth being forced to his knees, forced to degrade himself before the petty man that claimed he owned the light. 

_Wake pinned Winslow's chest to the floor with his weight, one hand clutching Winslow's hair to grind his face into the wooden planks while the other was wrapped around his cock. Precome leaked from his cock onto the back of Winslow's neck, getting his hair sticky and disgusting._

_"I told ye," Wake growled, "I told ye that you were to scrub the floor until the nails shone. Use your mouth if you have to. Do you see them shining?"_

_Winslow gritted his teeth._

_"Do I need to give you something more interesting to suck?"_

_The berating continued until Wake finished with a guttural snort and spilled over Winslow's nape and into his hair._

_"You aren't to clean yourself until the floor is spotless, Wake said as he fastened his trousers._

The birds cried and tittered with delight as they relayed the incident to her. His suffering scented the air. From their high places on the breeze they watched the youth toil over the rock, the hatred already at his core festering. Oh what fun it was to see his flesh worn down by the salty winds! Oh how he struggled over the cruel rock, stone tenderizing the succulent meat under that weak human skin each time he stumbled! Oh they would eat well when sea god and maiden were done with him!

One grew too brash, sailor brains are as daft in feathered skulls as in human ones, hounding the youth at all times, cackling in amusement because he could not understand what was coming. Until the youth slew it. There was a crack of vertebrae and a smash and another smash and another, until all that was left was the smear of gore on stone and a panting man. It was apparent then how _wrong_ the man was for this place. He was not of a sea. He made the waves tremble in hunger. He made her tremble as well.

Winds shifted and the sky turned to chaos. Still the men went through the motions of humanity. The older was toying with the youth now, that was apparent. Keeping the weakling insensate with drink. She was angry, of course, that the brutish light keeper got to taste the youth's flesh first. Jealousy rolled through her like the waves crashing over the rocks, getting the whole island wet with slime and salt and stench. 

_"So you can be sweet and cooperative after all," Wake remarked, gazing down at Winslow's flushed cheeks and fluttering eyelashes. In the weak lantern's light Winslow's face was nothing more than an abstract pattern of shadows and wind burnt flesh. The boy panted and drooled as Wake ground their hips together._

_Wake pushed thumb into Winslow's mouth, feeling along his cheeks and then pressing down on his tongue until Winslow's whole body jerked from gagging. Winslow's half panicked spasms were a real delight under his hips._

_"What else they teach you up in those timber camps, boy?"_

She went to shore. 

Her singing led the youth to her once more. The high notes tangled with the roar of the wind and the storm. His hands upon her were rough.She laid there, letting the youth fumble over her body. His hands were clumsy and shook as he pawed at her breasts before trailing downward. He hesitated before touching her slit, panting hard in anticipation. His thumbs stroked the flesh on either side, feeling the plumpness and give. He was shaking and panting when he at last pulled the the scales aside to see her soft, pink hole. 

He was shocked when she moved, trying to scramble away in shame. But she pulled him up upon her. His rough trousers scrapped against her sides as he fell atop her. The fabric chafed against her scales as she helped him free himself. 

It wasn't an impressive fucking. The youth shook the whole time, thrusts unskilled and rhythmless. But it served its purpose. He was too distracted by squirting his pathetic little load into her that he didn't notice the tentacles until they were upon him. 

His arms were immobilized first. Wrenched behind him and nearly snapping when he tried to free himself and the tentacles were forced to squeeze. His pathetic little cock was still half hard as it hung from his undone trousers. He kicked and thrashed until the tentacles caught his legs as well. He was wrestled onto his back, screaming until the tentacles wrapped around his throat. 

She sat beside him and pried his mouth open with her claws. He bit. The tentacles squeezed, cutting off his air until he had to open his mouth again to gasp. She smiled and reached down. She rubbed herself, watching the youth's pale white seed bubbled out of her as she passed the first of her clutch.

His eyes were wide and wild as she brought the first gelatinous egg to his lips. He tried to bite once more, fear overcoming the instinctual need to keep breathing. But she was stronger than him, her claws dug bloody into the inside of his cheeks as she forced the egg inside. He had to swallow. He had to swallow or he would die. His throat bulged and the tentacle helpfully relaxed to allow it to pass. The youth was heaving, trying to push it back out but it was impossible. She smiled and pushed free her next egg.

By the fourth egg he had stopped fighting. In reward the tentacles wrapped around his prick and began to stroke it back to hardness. His face was wet and salty, from the surf or tears she couldn't tell. Not that it really mattered to her anyway. He came once more before it was over. Or maybe he had just pissed himself. In the damp sand it was all the same. 

She left him and sunk back beneath the waves to wait.

_Wake struggled on the floor, bleeding from the ax wound in his shoulder as Thomas stripped him. Thomas dug his thumb into the gaping flesh just to hear him squeal as he shoved his cock up Wake's backside. Wake hadn't escalated to fucking him yet, so it was quite satisfying to put him in his place._

_"You could have just behaved, you know that?" Thomas said. "Been a good dog. Then I wouldn't have to be punishing ye like this."_

_The floor was soaking wet, puddles swirled with blood and oil all around them. Thomas saw his own reflection was twisted into some grotesque shape by the eddies of filth._

_Each thrust felt good, to be sure, but as his passion built his stomach turned sour. No, no, that had been a dream. It was just a bit too much drink making him sick. Those bulging, writhing shapes in his stomach could not be real-_

It was a struggle for awhile on the land. The youth and the ever changing man he served squabbled over some petty things. The winds were too high for the gulls to bring her news and the lulled contentment that always came after laying her young made her want to do nothing more than sleep until it was time to assist in the birth. So she did.

The storm finally broke, the older man was dead, the youth was scarred. His eyes had been burned blind during his audacious attempt to steal the light. He lay dashed upon the rocks, limbs twisted as seaweed. In the sun she could see his pale stomach split open like overripe fruit. He didn't fight at all as she and the gulls picked at his flesh, pulling free the scrambling young fish that had incubated inside. Several of the eggs had split and the fry had begun to feed on their broodmarer's flesh. They left the liver alone. That, as always, belonged to the birds. 

Oh! They sang. Oh! What a glorious treat the gods have brought us!


End file.
